Broken Heart

My first Valentine's Day with a broken heart. I tried to keep busy showering Shawn and Livie with everything I had.  Livie wasn't all that thrilled to model her outfit for me, but I forced her to take pictures anyway.  She was adorable.

After school, we made dinner for daddy and enjoyed an evening as a family (with a rousing game of Cooties).

I was lucky enough to get a homemade valentine from Livie that she made me with no prompting or instruction.  Love it.  And I love her - sweetest little girl ever!









Despite my best efforts to stay busy, my mind was on Carter all day.  I love you little man.

(thanks to Lindsey for introducing me to this song - I love it and listen to it constantly)

Check it out...

... A monkey butt!

While we were waiting for dinner to finish cooking tonight, Livie asked to play Thomas. Shawn dug out her train bin and Livie called me to the living room to play.

"Mom! Hurry up! I want to play Thomas with our WHOLE family". Then, she stopped and thought for a minute. "But we can't play with our whole family. Carter isn't here."

She sat there quite perplexed. What was she supposed to do now? Shawn reminded her that Carter is always in our hearts, and that was good enough for Liv. She talked to the monkey butt in her heart the entire time that we played Thomas.

What I wouldn't give for them to have had the chance to actually play together...

A sad puppet (aka - 2012, you are letting me down)

Awhile back, Livie and I were doing arts and crafts (one of her favorite activities) and she asked to make puppets.  We broke out the paper bags and went to town.  She worked diligently on several puppets, and then handed one to me. "Here you go mom.  This one is for you.  It is sad - just like you."  What mom's heart wouldn't break to hear their 3 year old associate "mom" with "sad"?  That was one of many moments during which I swore 2012 was going to be better.  I promised both of us that it had to be better.

Starting in mid-December, I would wake up in the middle of the night with horrible stomach and back pains.  Although they were quite disabling, they would disappear as quickly as they came, and visits to the clinic the following day never revealed anything wrong with me.

The first couple times I convinced myself they were just flukes.  Then, I was certain that it was just something I had eaten.  But once they started to keep me home from work, I resolved to figure out just what was wrong with me.  And that is how I ended up in the ER one Friday night.  An ultrasound and a CT scan later, I was informed that I had gallstones, but my symptoms didn't point to them being the source of the problem.  "Go home.  Get some sleep.  Follow-up with your primary care provider on Monday.  Come back if it gets worse"

And come back I did.  The very next day when the pains had me in tears.  The ER smartly assigned me a different doctor this time, to get a fresh perspective.  After a blood draw, he was convinced that my gallbladder was to blame, even if the symptoms didn't line-up.  I was admitted and warned that surgery would soon follow.

Monday brought an ERCP.  In laymen's terms, they stuck a camera down my throat into my tummy.  They also pulled out a rogue gallstone.  I felt a thousand times better after they removed the wayward stone. (Who knew that one tiny little stone, blocking up one tiny little tube in your tummy could cause so much pain?)

My gallbladder was scheduled to be removed Tuesday.  Normally an outpatient procedure, gallbladder removal isn't quite so simple when one has clots in their lungs.  The ERCP and subsequent surgery involved taking me off my regular blood thinners, and being put on IV Heparin, which was stopped and started as necessary to accommodate procedures.  This means that my entire hospital adventure lasted from my ER visit on Saturday until my release from the hospital on Thursday.

When Shawn came to visit on Tuesday, he came with a present from Livie.  "Here - Liv says I am supposed to give this puppet to you"

(the sad mommy puppet)

Heart-breaking.  I don't have a problem crying in front of Livie.  I think it is good for her to know that parents have feelings too.  It is good for her to know that I miss her brother, and I am not made of stone.  But she shouldn't have to carry the burden of me being sad.

And that is why, I am going to (try to) not feel sorry for myself.  The more I tell myself that the sum of everything is no big deal - that I can handle it - the more I start to believe it.

The past week was just a blip.  The stomach-shots (a result of having to start blood thinners all over again) will be done soon.  I won't waste anymore words on the jerk-of-a-surgeon that had me so upset I was shaking for an hour after he left.  I will focus on the good.  All of my awesome friends that came to visit me.  One of my best friends that took Liv shopping for party supplies since I couldn't.  And the fact that I got to go to my 3 year old's (late) birthday party today.  She had a blast and was all smiles.  And that is what is important.  (pictures to follow)

(almost) Back to (her new) Normal

On the way home from school two nights ago, Livie spotted the moon out in the evening sky.  She was so excited, "Look mom!  The moon!  It is Carter peeking out to say hi to us!"

This is Carter's container. (For some reason, I just can't bring myself to teach her the word urn.  Probably for the same reason I didn't want Carter in a casket or transported by hearse.  It just doesn't seem right for a baby.)  So now, moons remind Liv of Carter.  The entire drive home, she pointed out Christmas lights to him, making sure that she told him all about each and every house.  The backseat was full of "oohs and aahs" as she delighted in the houses that still had their display up and lit.  At some point, she realized that the moon never seemed to get farther away from her - "Mom!  The moon is following us!  Carter wants to come home with us!  He is following us the whole way home!  He will be so happy to be home!"  As the tears welled in my eyes, Liv was as happy as can be to think that her brother in Heaven was following her home.  She has adjusted to her new role as sister to a brother in Heaven just fine.

Nearly 8 months ago now, Livie watched her dad have a seizure.  In the weeks that followed, her dad was at the hospital a lot, and her mom was there with him.  Liv's world was thrown for a loop as her routine got jumbled and caregivers flowed in and out of our house.  She loved the extra time that she got with grandma, uncle and the fabulous Ms. Stephanie, but it wasn't her normal.  I tried to see her each day (even if that meant asking the sitter to keep her awake until midnight) but it wasn't always possible.

Then, once dad came home from the hospital, things were most definitely not normal.  It takes time to recover from having pieces of your brain cut-out.  But how do you explain that to a two year old?  What resulted was a crabby, unhappy, misbehaving little bird.  It took months for me to see normal Livie come back to us after that.  There were days I feared I had lost my happy, well-behaved little girl forever.

As I neared the end of my pregnancy with Carter, the majority of Livie's care still rested on my shoulders, but I tended to be a little crabby (4 hours of sleep a night and a baby nestled in your pelvis will do that to you).  I started to see the post-brain-surgery Livie resurface.  Then, Carter was born.  And there were lots and lots of tears.  Things going on that Liv didn't understand.  One night I am whispering in her ear that she might get to meet her brother in the morning, and 10 hours later she finds out that there isn't going to be a baby coming home after all.  What a whirlwind for a little girl!

Things went down-hill even more after I was admitted with my pulmonary embolism.  I saw it coming before I was even released from the hospital.  More changing of her routine.  Grandma and uncle in and out of her house again.  The insecure and naughty bird was coming back.

This time though, I was worried.  Kids are resilient, I know.  But how much can I expect one little girl to handle?  Livie had meltdowns over the smallest things, becoming clingy and distant all at the same time.  Defiant and needy, she was a different child than the one I knew.  I hoped and prayed that we would get through this.  I certainly wasn't at the top of my game - what if I couldn't help her?  What if my sweet and caring little girl really was gone forever this time?

But slowly, I have seen her settle.  She is happier again.  She listens better.  I don't see the scared look in her eyes.  Even Shawn has commented, "she seems happier lately!"  and I think she is.

I have tried hard to be strong and consistent for her, and I am starting to get my sweet bird back.

She doesn't run to check on her Carter cake every morning anymore.  I doubt she will allow it to leave the kitchen anytime soon, but it is no longer an obsession.  I have been talking about removing his car seat from the car, and I think it may actually happen without too much of a fuss.  With the stockings down and baby swing packed-up, physical evidence of his presence here is slowly fading away.  Even Carter's monkey balloon from his funeral now bounces along the floor instead of the ceiling.  So many things that we are all realizing we need to learn to let go of.

Everything is so-matter-of-fact to Livie these days.  She talks about what she wants to, when she wants to.  "Mom, remember when dad fell in the kitchen?  Tell me what happened"  "Mom, remember when my friends came to Carter's good-bye party?  Tell me about how I colored with them"

When she talks about Carter, there is an acceptance in her words that I have yet to master.  Her brother is in Heaven, and that is just the way it is.

Another first

"Your friend got a scooter for Christmas too!". The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I knew Livie would be so excited by the prospect of a 'scooting buddy' this summer, that I started telling her the good news before I even realized that she was trying to talk to me, and that I was about to speak over her own news.

So many times in the last eleven weeks (11 weeks already!) Livie has spoken such nuggets of wisdom and reassurance that I often wonder where they came from. So many times she has known exactly what to say in order to comfort me or to bring tears to my eyes - depending on what I needed at that moment. Her innocent comments come when I least expect them and most need them. But yesterday, I missed one. 

Livie was running towards me, eager and excited to tell me something. She started in, "Mom! Baby Jesus..." and then she stopped. Because I had interrupted her thought with the news that one of her friends had received the same glorious Christmas present that she had - a scooter. And whatever it was that she wanted to tell me was lost. Her mind had already moved on to dreams of summer scooter riding on the sidewalk, and all I got from her was a blank stare when I asked her what it was that she wanted to tell me about baby Jesus.

These days, her stories of baby Jesus always involve Carter in some way. And my mind was already on him after an emotional afternoon.  A story would have done my heart good.

One of my friends (and her son, one of Livie's friends, who is also the proud new owner of a scooter) recently welcomed a beautiful new baby boy into their family.  I had several friends who were due with little boys in the weeks following my due date.  All of these other little boys have now arrived safely.  And I am so grateful that my friends have been spared the the heartache that we are going through.  But I won't lie - I am also oh so jealous  heartbroken that they have their babies and I don't have mine.

Yesterday afternoon I had the great privilege to go meet one of these little boys.  I was genuinely excited to meet him, and also a little scared for my heart.  I am so glad I went.  Of course there were tears.  And I left with a deep longing for Carter that I can't shake.  But I had to see a baby sometime.  I can't go the rest of my life avoiding newborn boys.  And my friend couldn't have been more wonderful.  She let me snuggle her little guy and cry my tears.  I know she will read this, so I want her to know how blessed I feel to have such an understanding friend.

This summer our kids will scooter up and down the sidewalk.  And as we run behind them, her arms will be full, and mine empty.  I will watch her son go through countless firsts that Carter will never experience.  At some point I will learn how to enjoy those moments for what they are.  But for now, I am just thankful to have that first newborn snuggle under my belt.

The day after

My Dearest Carter,

Merry Christmas! I hope that your first Christmas in Heaven was as grand as could be. We have been missing you here - our Christmas this year was not the one we had been planning and dreaming of. 

Livie and I spent many evenings this month trying to get Christmas shopping done. I thought about you the whole time - Christmas shopping this year was supposed to be our date together. We were going to spend our maternity leave out and about - enjoying the sights and sounds of the season. Instead, Liv and I rushed through stores as quickly as I could coax her in and out of them.

On one of our trips, we bought a toy that we thought you would have liked. The plan was to donate it to a little boy that didn't have any presents for Christmas. On the morning that we were going to drop it off, your sister cried and cried. She didn't want to give up the toy that she had picked out for you. After lots of explaining and lots of tears, Liv eventually agreed to leave it at the toy drop-off at daycare. She checked on it daily until the toys were taken away.

I wish that you could have gone with us to see Santa this year. Livie wore a different dress than I had originally planned on. I had an outfit for you that I picked out to go with her Christmas dress - you two would have been so cute in matching outfits on Santa's lap. I just couldn't send her in her outfit without you in yours, so she wore a friend's Christmas dress instead.

She was SO excited to see Santa this year - she genuinely believes that he works magic. Livie greeted Santa with a huge hug and a smile that lit up the room. He asked her what she wanted for Christmas, and in a shy, quiet voice she answered, "a healthy baby". Santa looked confused, and I was too far away to explain. He tried to clarify - "you want a baby doll?". Livie's face fell a bit and she nodded in agreement. Yes, a baby doll would be fine. She added on a request for some play food and was soon ushered off of Santa's lap so the next child could have a turn.

I am not sure who all heard her original request. But those words - "a healthy baby" - hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity to me. She misses you as much as we do.  Perhaps that is why your cake is still hanging around on our counter.  It has some battles wounds, but is hanging in there.

Keeping up with tradition, we decorated a gingerbread house (to feed to Santa's reindeer of course). I had pictured you snuggled up to me in a sling as we decorated this year. Our gingerbread house didn't turn out nearly as nice this year as it did last year.

I guess my heart just wasn't in it. Besides, it kept falling apart until we eventually gave up keeping it together. Thankfully, Clifford the Elf used some of his late-night-magical-hot-glue to fix it for us.

We went to church on Christmas Eve, and then to great grandma Pat's for dinner. But you know that. You were there.

On Christmas Eve, we set the gingerbread house out for the reindeer, and filled the living room with presents. Yours are still tucked safely away in the basement.

I stayed up late that night, looking at your ornaments on the Christmas tree, and wishing that you could be here to celebrate with us in the morning. Some of my favorite memories of Christmas 2008 are from being up in the middle night. Livie and I would snuggle in the living room with only the glow and twinkling of the Christmas tree for light. Those late night nursing sessions were so peaceful, I had been looking forward to the same with you. Instead, I just stared at the tree and cried. You are so missed. 

Christmas morning was a success. After a quick snuggle with mom and dad, Liv raced to the living room to check out her gifts.

She was stopped in her tracks by the "marble game" that Santa brought her. Unfortunately, Santa had forgotten to check and make sure that the game actually came with marbles. Thank goodness for leftover Halloween candy (Gobstoppers to the rescue!)

As the day went on, Livie dug into her presents more and more - her favorites seem to be the marble game and scooter, both from Santa. She didn't notice that Santa didn't bring her a doll - guess that isn't what she wanted after all. She did however, notice that you weren't there. At one point she told me, "I love our family - mom, dad, me and Carter - that is who makes up our family! You can't forget Carter. He is part of our family!" (I think she was a bit miffed that you didn't have presents under the tree)

You did however, have a stocking. Livie informed me awhile ago that it was her job as sister, to check your stocking for you. I am glad she told me that, so I could make sure that your stocking was full.

She loves the monkey tooth brush that she found inside, and the monkey bookmark is growing on her. It is currently marking the spot in her Madeline book where she pressed a flower from your funeral. 

Christmas Day after dinner, we had cupcakes and sang "Happy Birthday" to baby Jesus. Livie was quite excited for you that you got to attend His 'real' birthday party. She is wondering if there was a piñata at the party?

Liv played hard all day yesterday with all of her new things. This morning though, I found her playing with all of your things. From the moment she realized that you were coming, she would insist on visiting the "baby aisle" of whatever store we happened to visit. Oftentimes, I would let her talk me into a new rattle or small toy for you. Each purchase was put into the baskets of toys tucked into the shelves of the entertainment center in the living room . The baskets are over flowing at this point. Your sister was meticulously going through each toy. Taking it out of the basket, looking it over and trying it out.

She was talking in a whisper so quiet I could barely hear her, but occasionally I would pick-up her narration as to how the toy works. "you push this button for music" - "this shakes when you bite on it". Was she talking to herself, or to you? When she was finished, she carefully picked up all of your toys and tucked them away again.

Before I go, I thought you might want to see all of your Christmas ornaments.

Livie saw this curious george monkey, and insisted it had to be yours:

I found this snowbabies angel ornament, to match the snowbabies ornament Liv got when she was born:

And finally, this ornament was a gift from 'Dinner Grandma':

We survived our first Christmas without you. I hope that yours was full of much more Joy than mine was.

Wish you were here,
Mom

Flashbacks

"Mom, do you remember when I threw up right there?" Olivia asked me, pointing to a stain on the carpet. She continues on, remembering (in sequence of occurrences) all the places she threw up blueberries on our white carpet a couple weeks ago. I was nodding along with her as she narrated the story of her sickness, when suddenly I remembered. The memory of the last time I threw up came flooding back to me.

Laying in the hospital bed before delivery, at some point it hit me. My son was dead. The thought was so heart wrenching that I couldn't stop myself from throwing up. I had forgotten about that, but in an instant I remember as if it had happened 5 minutes ago.

The night of Carter's birth, everything happened so fast, and so slow at the same time.  I remember his birth so vividly, but the hours between arriving at the hospital and delivery are spotty, as is the rest of our stay.

Little tidbits of those 36 hours come back to me when I least expect them. Snapping a picture of Livie on my phone a couple of days ago, I realized that there were pictures of Carter on my phone.

His pictures, taken shortly after birth, stopped me in my tracks. Carter? On my phone? How did they get there? And then I remembered. I still hadn't realized that we would have a whole day with him, and I wanted to make sure I had a picture of him. So I asked for my phone, the only camera I had, and handed it off to have pictures taken.

I dread the day when I am in a client's office and something, seemingly innocent, brings back a memory from that day. I won't be able to stop the tears.

I am amazed at the ways grief can manifest itself. I am exhausted, and my whole body aches. Little things become huge ordeals and I have no patience. And even when I laugh and smile and try to move on, the grief is right there, just below the surface, waiting to rise up and make itself known.

Many times over the past seven months I have been told how strong I am. And while I know it is said with the best of intentions, to be honest, I am sick of hearing it. I am not strong. I am heartbroken and vulnerable and weak. When I was pregnant with a sick husband and a two year old, I carried on because I had to. And there were (many) times I could have done better than I did. But I moved forward, just like anyone else would have.

And then, when October 18th came and went, I most definitely wasn't strong. I keep moving forward because I have to. There is no choice. This isn't a path I chose.

Taking the words of a good friend: I am not strong, I am trying to learn how to live with a piece of my soul missing.

In the spirit of moving forward, we decorated for Christmas today. Without a stocking for Carter.

And so, just like that, it's gone:

Merry Christmas Livie (and Carter)

Happy Belated St. Nick's day!  In our house, we set out our shoes on December 5th before bed, and St. Nick brings Christmas jammies during the night.  It was quite a debate, but in the end Livie picked her pink sparkle shoes to leave out.  Our little bird is now the proud new owner of silky pink Christmas pajamas.  She didn't ask about setting Carter's shoes out.  If she had, I would have let her - I already have his Christmas pajamas.

I have been really struggling how to incorporate Carter into our family Christmas this year.   We were expecting him to be here with us - Santa was supposed to bring toys for two kids this year.  How do I find the balance of making the season special for Liv, but still including her brother?   What do I do with his Christmas jammies?  And the presents I already bought him?  I miss him so much, I'm not ready to part with his things.

Our Christmas tree still isn't up, either are the Christmas lights.  I bought Carter a stocking on etsy - I just couldn't not have one for him.  The seller had some poor feedback recently, but the stocking was absolutely perfect so I took a chance on her.  And of course, there is no sign of the stocking arriving any time soon.  I'm not sure if I can bring myself to hang the other stockings without Carter's.  Isn't it perfect?

I hope it arrives eventually.  The seller promised she would ship it by the 5th but won't respond to my message asking for confirmation that she sent it.  I am so ridiculously anxious over a silly stocking.  I try to remind myself that it is just some cloth.  And that I can't worry myself over it - I have a living child that I need to focus on.  I don't want her to think back and remember (and believe me - she remembers everything) Christmas as a time of tears.  I don't want to steal her magic.

I may have forgotten to move him one night (thankfully I noticed before Livie did) but I am really trying to keep Clifford the elf exciting for Livie.  At least it is something special for her right now.  Last night he brought her a ginger bread house kit that we will put together as a family this weekend.  And a couple nights ago he got into the arts and crafts and made himself a snowflake.

Livie was super excited when she saw Clifford's snowflake.  She told me she wanted to hang it in the window so Carter could look down and see it.  I wish everything was as simple as Livie makes it out to be.

That darn elf (on a shelf)

Last year I learned about "The elf on the shelf" and boycotted the time consuming, evil looking, over-priced elf.

This year, after hearing stories from friends about how much their kids love the thing, I gave in.

I spent $30 on an elf and a book about him. Imagine my surprise when he came and I realized that I already had the darn thing.

On the left is the official elf on the shelf (Liv named him Clifford) on the right is Thumpty-Googin, a holiday tradition on my mom's side of the family that was handed down to me when Liv was a baby. So now we have two elves.

He has been mischeavious the past two nights.

Writing in toothpaste on the bathroom mirror!

Sneaking candy in the middle of the night!  

Livie proclaimed this morning that she knows he is just a stuffed animal (and doesn't come alive at night like the book says) but that she loves him anyway. She wakes up in the morning so excited to see what he pulled off the night before.

I am still not thrilled with the trend, but I am trying to make this Christmas season fun for Liv (even though I'm not exactly in a Christmas mood). So, the elf is going to be making messes in our house nightly. Seriously, I PAID money to create more cleaning for myself. What was I thinking?

More moping

Tonight as Livie was finishing up her shower, I reached into the linen closet and grabbed a towel. My hand came out holding a fluffy blue towel. Carter's towel. Not that he ever used it, but it was bought specifically for him. I thought about handing it to Liv, but I knew she would protest. So back into the closet it went. Who knows when we will use it.

After she was tucked in, I started picking up, and check out what I found.

A couple of days ago Livie asked for some blue envelopes so she could write a letter to Carter. The envelopes are full of her magnetic letters. I found them in her pretend mailbox. I wonder if she was just mimicking motions, or if in her mind she wrote a letter to him and was trying to send him something.
(To update, Liv saw them laying out in the morning, and shrieked "My Carter letters!"  She licked the envelopes closed and plopped them back into her mailbox.  I guess she is trying to send him something.)

This whole thing plain old sucks. The reminders of him are everywhere. I want so badly to remember him but it seems like all I remember is his stuff. The swing, the car seat, the clothes, all the things that I remember buying for him. But it is hard to remember him.

When I close my eyes I can only conjure up a couple images of him in my mind. I want to have memories and stories to tell. How can I love and miss someone so much that I never even truly got to meet?

During my pregnancy I rarely got the chance to relax. I don't have any memories of sitting down and just focusing on the baby. I try to remember a time when I just soaked up the kicks and the movement, but I can't. I was always busy and stressed and exhausted. I barely remember the pregnancy. Just snippets of a kick here or there. The lack of memories is painful.

I feel like I am grasping for straws to try and keep him in my mind. We haven't gotten the rest of his pictures back yet. I am so anxious to get them - I want to see them so badly. And at the same time it will be hard to get them, because that will be it. The last chance for a part of him.

I have been having good days and bad days. Today was definitely a bad day. I miss my son so much, it is all I can think about sometimes.

Letters to Livie

Bad things don't just happen to other people. They happen to us too. 2011 has done a fine job of making sure that I know this.

I have always had the intention of writing letters to Livie, so that she would have something should I not be around. It was an idea I got before she was even born, from some Lifetime movie where a little girl's mom died. But it has always been just a good intention. I have scribbled out notes here and there, but never to the extent that I intended.

When I was in the hospital with the PE, I was scared and so regretful that I hadn't written Liv her letters. The middle of the night what-ifs in a hospital are awful.

So, I now have my own tradition for Livie's birthday. Last week, I bought cards. Lots and lots of cards. From "Happy 4th Birthday" to "Congratulations on the birth of your baby" and everything in-between.

I am going to spend the coming weeks writing letters for each card. Then, every year when her birthday comes around, I intend to update the letters that need updating. Writing to her has taken more time and made me cry more than I expected. I am hoping that by telling the Internet my plan, it will help hold me accountable. Hopefully Livie never needs to see these letters, but it brings me an odd sense of comfort to know that they will exist.

In more upbeat news, we have been busy taking down fall decorations around the house, and putting up winter ones.  (Carter's swing is still sitting where the Christmas tree traditionally goes, so I have a feeling it may be awhile before the tree goes up.)  We made snowflakes last night.  The three of us each cut out our own snowflakes, and then Livie asked me to help her make a baby one for Carter. This morning she taped them up on the cabinets of a bench that is in our entry way.

I took these pictures all within a minute or two of each other.  All with the same settings, and no flash.  The lighting hitting the bench was no different for any of the doors.  I retook all 4 pictures several times, trying to get the cabinets to look similar in all the pictures.  Each picture turned out the same every time.

Happy Birthday Little Bird!

I can't believe that my baby bird is 3!  How did that happen?

When did she turn from this:

To this?

She has grown into such a sweet and smart little girl.  We are truly blessed to have her.

If I haven't already mentioned it, Livie is a planner and control freak, just like me. She likes to know details ahead of time, and tends to plan activities for herself within the framework of what we have told her. We are working on having her communicate those plans to us ahead of time, otherwise disappointment abounds. I have learned that if I tell her we are going to the mall, I need to tell her what mall. And what she will be allowed to do there. Otherwise, a quick trip to the Mall of America will turn into 20 rides and 2 hours at the aquarium in her mind.

Yesterday, I realized that I failed my child.  She has been surrounded by tears and sadness lately, and her birthday (party) has been quite built up in her mind as something fun and exciting.  Only problem is - I have yet to plan said party. Everyone will tell me that it is completely understandable, blah, blah, blah.  Reality is that I have been intending to call Pump it Up since August.  Not the end of the world - right?  There is always next month.  Except for the fact that I neglected to explain to Livie that one does not always have their birthday party on the same day as their birthday.

We went to the grocery store yesterday so that Livie could pick out her birthday cake.  To eat at home.  With just her immediate family.  Too bad she didn't know that.  I was horrified when she pointed to some cupcakes, declaring those to be for her friends at her party.  And a Dora cake to eat at home.  Oops.

I explained that the cupcakes would wait at the store until the day of her party, and we were just going to buy her home cake.  She was disappointed, but she seemed to understand.  At least I thought she did.

As soon as we got home, she wanted her Dora cake's picture taken next to her Carter cake.  Boots the body guard is now working double duty.

 

Livie fell asleep yesterday eagerly awaiting her birthday in the morning.  As soon as she was down for the night, I took off for Target (Shawn was home) to buy her a birthday card.  Who forgets a birthday card for a kid who is obsessed with reviewing the card options every time we go to Target?  Oops.  Again.  Thank goodness for Black Friday and late hours at Target, or Livie would have been stuck with whatever I could have found at the grocery store.

This morning I woke up to Livie sitting next to me in bed, jabbering away.  She was apparently quite excited to be 3.  After some begging and pleading, Liv talked us into getting up.  I had set-up all her presents in the living room the night before, so they would be the first thing she saw when she walked out there.  I left some things wrapped, but the hand-me-down Barbies (why buy new ones when my Barbies from the 80's still have plenty of play in them?) and all their accessories were set-up and ready to be played with.  Livie completely ignored her wrapped presents at first, and went right to town playing.  She was thrilled with her Barbies (not so much with the jeans and socks that I had wrapped up).

Then came the question - "When are my friends coming over?  Or are they meeting us at Pump it Up?"

ummmm.... what?  (I thought we had gone over this yesterday)

I again explained that birthdays and parties aren't always on the same day.  There were tears.  Lots and lots of tears.  And who can blame the kid?  I totally set her up for disappointment.  That is all she has had lately.  She got over it eventually, but I still feel like crap about it.

Thankfully, uncle Justin came over with his arms full of presents and totally brightened Livie's day.  Our bird was spoiled today.  Several new Barbie sets, several new Littlest Pet Shop Sets AND a new bean bag chair.  All from her favorite uncle.  Lucky kid!  Uncle stuck around to play with Livie and have some cake (check out her new sweatshirt from Dad!):

Livie is sound asleep on the couch now, all played out from her new toys.  Happy 3rd Birthday sweetheart!

One more picture for good measure.  When I bought Livie's bitty baby from Carter, I also bought her and her baby matching Christmas dresses.  It was the last present for Livie that I had bought while still pregnant, so they were Carter's gift to Livie today.  She yelled a sincere thank you up to Heaven (without prompting) when she saw her gift, and then began twirling around so that Carter could see her dress spin.  

(I was doing so good today, I hadn't cried once all day until I wrote the last paragraph.  Baby steps I suppose.)

Please don't forget

Yesterday sucked.

The day started out ok - we got up and got ready to go have breakfast with Shawn's family.  Livie threw a massive fit on our way out the door, but other than that I was doing ok in the morning.  I survived through breakfast and then we headed home for some quiet time around the house, before dinner with my family in the evening.

I laid out the outfit that Carter was going to wear - a comfy brown and red fleece outfit that Liv and I had picked out together a couple weeks before Carter was born.  I'm not sure why I got it out, it just felt like the thing to do.  It is still laying on his changing table.

I had my tears and my wishing and my what ifs - looking over pictures and thinking about what could have been.  But I pulled myself together and got everyone ready for dinner.

On our way to my grandma's house, it felt like someone was missing.  Carter was supposed to be with us.  I thought for a moment about asking Shawn to turn around so we could go home and get him.  As weird as it sounds (carrying around your dead son's ashes) I really did want him with us.  Even though no one else would have understood, I still do kind of wish we had brought him with.

Livie was the star of the show at Thanksgiving dinner.  She had a couple birthday presents waiting for her which she opened with enthusiasm - some reindeer slippers from her cousin Hannah, and a baby doll stroller from Grandma and Papa.  Her antics kept people entertained all night.  Everyone was having fun. It was business as usual for Thanksgiving.  And that is the part that sucked.

People would bristle at the mention of Carter - "Olivia, what a pretty doll, where did you get it?" - "Carter gave it to me"  :silence:  Until someone would quickly change the subject.
(When I was pregnant, I bought a bitty baby doll and accessories that was supposed to be a present from Carter to Olivia when she came to meet him at the hospital.  Instead, she got it after his funeral.  She knows that he was in my belly when we bought the doll and that he helped pick it out for her.)

I tried to mention Carter once - and people quickly turned away and pretended like they didn't hear me.

It is no secret that Shawn and I had trouble coming up with boy names that we both loved.  In the end, we had a list of boy names that one of us loved.  I have written about how Livie chose the name Carter, but the other names on the list were Logan, Cooper and Sawyer.  For a long time, Livie had been campaigning for 'Cooper' and most of our family had heard her discuss it.

The only time yesterday that anyone even came close to acknowledging the fact that we have a son, was when my uncle pulled me aside to let me know "that a couple days before *it* happened" (exact words) he had gotten a dog and named it Cooper.  He was kind and genuine about what he was saying.  He hadn't known at the time that Cooper was a name we were considering, and he wanted to bring it up to us before we heard mention of his dog Cooper.  Of course he can call his dog whatever he wants, and I appreciate how thoughtful he was in pulling us aside.  But it breaks my heart that this conversation was the only one that came close to bringing Carter up.

I made it out of my grandma's house ok, but burst into tears the second that the door closed behind us on our way out.  Not only was Carter not with us - but no one remembered that he was supposed to be there.

There is no guidebook or rules about what to say or do when a baby dies.  And I am sure that everyone wants it handled differently.  So I am telling myself that our entire family didn't forget about Carter.  They just didn't know what to say.  That has to be it.  I have to let myself think that everyone else was missing his presence as much as I was.  And it was just easier to pretend like nothing had happened than to acknowledge his absence.

In the week between his birth and his funeral, everyone was sad with me.  There were plenty of tears to go around.  But now, everyone is back to their normal.  Thankful that it wasn't them or their child.

I am the only one that had the privilege of knowing Carter while he was alive.  So of course no one can possibly miss him as much as I do.  And no one can understand the hole in my heart.  But moving forward through life knowing that we are the only ones who will continue to mourn his absence is like a dagger in that hole.

I received several (much appreciated) messages from friends yesterday - you know who you are - thank you!  Carter even received a message reminding him how missed he was.

I just wish his family would have remembered him too.

Last night when I was tucking Olivia in, we said a bedtime prayer and at the end, asked baby Jesus to tell Carter how much we love and miss him and how much we wished he could have been with us today.  A couple minutes after we said amen, Livie told me - "He told him.  Baby Jesus told Carter, and he knows".   Oh how I hope that is true.

Thanksgiving

Today I am thankful for my amazing husband and daughter, but missing my son SO much.

Livie part 2

Tonight I thought out-loud and said, "oh, I wish we could have brought Carter home"

Livie piped in innocently, and with almost a touch of hurt in her voice - "but you got to bring me home"

And we did - I have my Livie. (and she has her cake)

I have been emotionally and physically exhausted, so Livie has been going to daycare. It is her normal, and I needed the alone time. But she is right, I got to bring her home. So tomorrow, we are going to try and have a 'home day'.

Livie loves home days. And normally, so do I. Tomorrow I hope that I can live up to her expectations. We made a list of things we want to do tomorrow, and included on the list is playing with her cake.

We ordered a monkey cake for Carter's funeral. I didn't realize it was never served (cupcakes were easier I suppose) until I cleaned out our fridge a week and a half ago and found it. I set it out with the intention of tossing it, but then Livie found it. She screamed out "Carter!" when she first saw it, and has been talking to the monkey on the cake like it is her brother ever since. She runs out into the kitchen to say good morning as soon as she wakes up, and always says goodnight before going to bed. In-between there, she talks to him, tickles him, brings him toys and hugs him. Dora's buddy Boots the monkey is constantly perched next to the cake to watch over Carter, and the top of the cake box is NEVER to be closed.

I haven't encouraged or discouraged her relationship with the cake. I figure it is one of her ways to cope, so I will let her do what she has to do. I don't have the heart to throw it away, so I have a nearly month-old cake, with rock hard frosting sitting on my kitchen counter. It breaks my heart when she hugs that cake. I hope that someday Livie understands that I wanted to bring Carter home not just for myself, but for her too. He is part of our family, and hugging a little brother beats hugging a cake any day.

Livie

My sweet little bird is currently snuggled up next to me, asleep on the couch. I am so thankful for her.

The poor girl has had a rough month too.  She went from being massively excited for her little brother, to trying to understand what death meant.  She is a smarty pants for her age, but how does an almost three year old begin to comprehend that her baby brother had an owie too big to fix?  How do I explain to her someday that really, it was my body's fault?  Carter didn't have a single thing wrong with him.  And how do you explain it all in a way that she isn't terrified of owies?

Livie has asked numerous times why the doctors couldn't fix Carter's owie.   Afterall, they fixed daddy's owie and we have promised that they will help mommy get better.  When you are three, how do you know what owies send you to heaven, and what ones don't?

It isn't fair that she has to grieve with us at such a young age.   And it isn't fair that she has to watch her mom cry, and have to hear me say, "I am sorry, I can't _______" (pick you up, go outside, etc).  Lots of things aren't fair.

But yesterday Livie had a good day.   I can honestly say that it was probably her first good day in a month.  I might actually go as far as to say that it was probably the best day I have had in a month too. 

Livie's preschool teacher is getting married in March, and our bird has the privilege of being the flower girl.  Livie is quite excited and in preparation, looks through our wedding scrapbook almost daily.  This has led to her own scrapbook being pulled out too (and I will admit that it goes as far as her first month of life).  The first time she opened it up, she saw a picture of herself on the baby scale, and pointed to it, asking me if that was Carter.   Looking over her first page, I realized that we had some of the same pictures of Carter as we did of Olivia.  At that moment, I resolved to finish Livie's first year in her book, AND make one for Carter.

On Friday, Livie and I chose 200 of our favorite pictures (after sorting through 11,926 photos from the last three years) and sent them to Target for printing.  Yesterday morning we picked up the pictures and a new album.  And thus began our good day.

Scrapbooking is definitely not my forte.   It always sounds like such a great idea - and then I sit down and try to do it and remember that I don't have patience for things like that.  As a result I have tons of pretty paper that will probably never get used.  But I was determined to make Carter a book, and Livie was excited for a "mother daughter activity"

We chose pictures and paper together, and Livie became an expert gluer.  She alternated between working on pages for her book and pages for Carter's book.  The pages that she made for Carter were done with such care - she used her favorite stickers and each page had its own story.  (I should write down Livie's thoughts behind each page before I forget)  It was the first time in a month that I have had the energy to do something with her that didn't result in one or both of us in tears and frustrated.

A good friend had arranged for a playdate yesterday, and she arrived at our house with her daughter just as Livie's interest in scrapbooking was about done.  Liv needed a chance to play and have fun.  The girls played for over four hours straight.  This gave me a chance to relax and talk.  I don't think I realized how much I needed that until afterwards.

I have no idea how long I have known her (we tend to say preschool) and we haven't always loved each other (I remember some boy-drama during middle school summer orchestra) but this friend (who I have no doubt is reading this right now) always seems to know what I need.  So thank you.  We need to do that again soon.

Our good day ended with some more scrapbooking and an easy bedtime.  Carter's book is started - we will finish it when we get the rest of our NILMDTS pictures back.  And even though most pages consist only of pictures glued onto pretty paper, Olivia's first year is done as well.

A sampling of Olivia's hard work (clickable)

And the first pages of the kids scrapbooks

Due Date

Today was/is Carter's due date. The day was a lot harder than I expected.

Livie was home with me for most of the day, and we just hung out and took it easy. Admittedly, I let her watch a lot more TV and play more computer than would be ideal. But I figure I have a good excuse.

The tears just wouldn't stop coming today. They have a mind of their own and are completely uncontrollable.

I just want to shout from the rooftops "I want my baby!!!". I miss him so, so, so much. Almost more than I can handle at times. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing that anyone can do for me. I am left with a big gaping hole in my heart that will never be filled. Losing a child is the absolute worst broken heart ever. No one should have to go through this.

I poured over the pictures that we have of Carter last night. I wanted to (and did) post one on Facebook today to honor him. And I had to pick just the right one. This is the one I eventually chose:

We are waiting for the rest of our shots from NILMDTS (Ginger took our pictures) but then that is it. It hit me last night that there will be no more pictures. We have what we have and there will never be more. No more chances. All I have left of my precious little boy are some pictures, footprints, snippets of hair and a box of ashes.

Before we left the hospital I tried to take in and memorize every inch of him. His dad's hands, his sister's baby toe and his long legs that he got from me. I smelled him over and over, trying to save his scent in my memory forever. But it wasn't long enough. It never would have been long enough. I don't have every inch memorized. I never got to see his eyes, and once he was dressed we never undressed him.

I asked the funeral home not to launder his clothes, in hopes that his scent would still be there. But it isn't. I have tried 100 times to smell his onesie but there is none of him on it. Just some make-up from their attempt to make him look ok for the viewing. (he did look fine, but he did not look like my sweet baby that I left at the hospital)

I don't know how to move forward from here. Everyone else's life is going on, but I am stuck. Stuck trying to come to terms with a life without my baby. I have a sweet, amazing daughter for whom I am so thankful. But I don't have my son and that is one broken heart that I'm not sure I will ever get over.

The saddest homecoming

Olivia has been excited to be a big sister from the moment we decided we were ready to try for a second baby. At target one day, (months before I was pregnant with Carter) I grabbed a bottle of prenatal vitamins and threw them in the cart. Livie's whole face lit up and she told me, "Those are for my baby brother!" I will never know where that came from, but she was quite correct.

From the moment I first saw two pink lines, Livie knew a baby was on the way. She sensed it, and we went with it. When we finally told daycare that we were expecting, all the teachers smiled at each other and confessed that Livie had been talking about the baby for weeks.

For my entire pregnancy, Livie oohed and aahed over the baby. She helped pick out baby gear and eagerly helped me rearrange her room to make space for her baby. The only moment of disappointment may have been when we first found out that the baby was a boy. We had the ultrasound technician write the gender on a piece of paper and we opened it as a family:

Her disappointment was short-lived as she jumped straight into helping me pick out blue clothes, blue blankets and as many boy-rattles as she could talk me into buying.

She would kiss my belly goodnight, sing "Hush little brother" and plan out her days as a big sister. She was most excited to push him in his baby swing, and watch over him in the car.

As we neared the baby's expected arrival, we discussed names as a family. The baby had been coined 'Logan' but we continued to toss around possible names. The night before he was born, I knew I was starting to go into labor. I asked Livie - "if the baby comes tonight, what should we name him" She didn't hesitate in answering "Carter".

You can read about Carter's entrance to the world here

Processing Carter's passing has been difficult for her. At almost three years old, she doesn't quite understand how Carter could be playing with baby Jesus at the same time as she cuddled his body at the hospital. Or how he could be playing with baby Jesus at the same time as she saw him at his funeral.

We didn't explain the concept of cremation to her. We simply told her that "the men" were going to put Carter's body in a special container so that we could bring him home. Last night on the way to the funeral home to pick up Carter, she had a lot of questions. She was clearly trying to understand how he could be in the container and with baby Jesus at the same time. She also didn't quite comprehend that he wasn't going to cry from the container, or sleep in his crib. Livie really, really wanted to feed him a bottle.

We picked up Carter's remains from the funeral home, and I managed to get in and out before bursting into tears on the sidewalk. Livie's reaction was quite simple - "The men turned Carter into a moon statue!"

I asked Shawn to place Carter in his carseat (which Olivia refuses to allow to be removed from the car) and we drove home.

It is good to have my son at home with us. I just wish he was a snuggly baby, not a container of ashes. Anytime Livie saw me cry last night, she would offer to go get Carter so I could snuggle him and in her mind, then I wouldn't miss him.

Being the terrific big sister that she is, Livie attempted to dress Carter's container in a hat and onesie. She kissed him and made sure she was comfortable. What an amazing big sister she is. I wish Carter could be here to soak up all the love she has to give.